Frustration
by elrosia
Summary: As a heat wave rolls through the Burrow, tensions build between Ron and Hermione.


**Disclaimer:** All characters owned by JK Rowling

It was the hottest day they'd had all summer. The sun blazed down on the misshapen structure of the Burrow, where Hermione was spending her holiday with the Weasley clan. Harry was due to arrive next week, but Hermione had opted to come early. She and the younger Weasley's had escaped outside into the garden in search of some cooler air.

Fred and George were huddled in the shadows beneath an apple tree, discussing in low voices something that was concealed between them. Every now and then they cast a glance at the others to make sure they weren't eavesdropping. _They needn't bother being so secretive,_ thought Hermione, rolling her eyes. It was far too hot to be concerned about much of anything, least of all whatever mischief the twins were up to now.

Ginny was lying on the grass in the small shade beside the hedges, with one arm flung over her face. Hermione thought she might be asleep except that every now and then she moaned something about melting in the heat.

Ron and Hermione were sprawled out beneath an old oak tree, each vying for a spot in the shade. Mrs. Weasley had sent them all out with glasses of ice cold lemonade. Hermione watched the condensation drip from her glass as she lay in the shade, not even able to summon the energy to take a sip. She closed her eyes and prayed for a hint of a breeze, but the air was still and heavy.

Hermione heard the tinkling of ice against glass as Ron took a drink of his lemonade. She opened one eye to peer at him from her vantage point on the ground. She watched him tip his head back as he drank, exposing his long neck. As he finished, her eyes were drawn to his mouth as he licked his lips and she watched as a drop of lemonade trailed down from the corner of his mouth. Hermione felt herself getting irritated at him for some reason. _Did he have to be so-_ she struggled for an adjective- _so messy?_ His fingers ran through his hair, rumpling it as he brushed it back from his face. She watched the muscles in his arms and chest flex and grow taut as he stretched and then settled back against the tree trunk. She huffed to herself in annoyance and pulled her hair above her head to get it off of her neck. _Was it possible that it was getting even hotter outside?_ He took another swig of lemonade, smacked his lips and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Ron," she snapped, "do you really have to do that?"

Ron looked over at her, bewildered. "Do what?" he asked.

She struggled to find an explanation to justify her irritation. She blamed the heat for making her thoughts all muddled. "Drink like that," she said, lamely.

"How am I meant to drink?" Ron asked defensively.

Hermione sighed. "Just forget it," she said irritably.

"Mental," Ron muttered quietly to himself. Hermione closed her eyes again and pretended not to have heard him.

Ron looked over at where Hermione was lying in the grass. He looked at her messy hair splayed out above her head, suddenly wondering what it felt like, and noticed that a strand of it fell across his leg. For some reason this bothered him. _Couldn't she keep her hair to herself?_ His gaze moved down, taking in her bare feet resting on the ground, his eyes running over the angle of her legs and her drawn knees, then moving up the length of her body and down the line of her arm stretched out on the grass to her small hand clutching her glass of lemonade. He watched the glass sweating, dripping water across her fingertips. He suddenly felt thirsty and took another swig of his lemonade, unconsciously smacking his lips again.

Hermione took a sudden deep breath, and Ron's eyes were drawn to her mouth as her lips parted and she sighed it out. He swallowed, a feeling growing inside him which he quickly defined as annoyance. _Why does she have to make so much noise? And who is she to tell me how I should drink a glass of lemonade?_

"Hermione," Ron said and she opened her eyes. "Can't you keep control of this mess?" he demanded, gesturing to the hair that was lying against his jeans, but for some reason still not bothering to brush it off. Hermione sat up and rolled her eyes.

"Maybe if you didn't take up all the space, then my hair wouldn't get in the way," Hermione said accusingly as she attempted to tame her wild mane with a hair tie. He watched her fingers running through her hair and it only irritated him further.

"Me take up all the space?" Ron snapped back, "You're the one all stretched out like a…a…" he faltered, trying to come up with an insult, but getting distracted by the mental image of her lying out on the grass.

"A what?" Hermione demanded.

"Nothing," Ron muttered lamely. Feeling foolish, he added, "Just keep to your own space."

"I will if you will," Hermione said maturely.

"Fine," he replied. They each turned slightly away from each other and glared out in opposite directions.

Ginny looked over at the pair of them and rolled her eyes, throwing her arm back across her face. Luckily, neither Ron nor Hermione noticed this.

All was silent for awhile, aside from the occasional exclamation from Fred and George, where they still sat whispering together.

As the sun moved across the sky, the shade began to shift underneath the trees. Hermione noticed first as she was furthest from the trunk. She felt a sliver of heat against her leg and edged closer to the center of the tree. Ron, leaning against the tree trunk with his arms folded, noticed this movement, but said nothing. After a few more minutes, Hermione shifted closer again, trying to move as casually as possible. As she did, Ron caught the scent of her shampoo and closed his eyes, breathing in. Suddenly feeling awkward, he cleared his throat, looking at her a little uneasily. She glanced at him, but he hastily looked away, pretending to be watching a gnome sneak through the garden gate. He felt his heart rate speed up as Hermione moved closer to him yet again, her arm slightly grazing his. He tried to push down the nervous buzzing he felt in his stomach. _Did she have to sit so close to him?_ His glass was now empty except for ice cubes, and he tipped one into his mouth in order to have something to do.

Hermione peered at Ron sideways as he worried the ice cube in his mouth, occasionally licking his lips. He glanced over at her. Caught in a stare, she quickly looked away and embarrassingly felt a blush creep to her cheeks. "Ron, do you really have to do that?" she snapped at him, trying to cover the awkward moment.

"What is it I'm supposed to have done now?" he demanded a little too loudly.

"Chewing on that ice...it's...it's irritating!" she shouted.

"Well maybe if you didn't sit so close to me you wouldn't notice it!" he shouted back.

"Well maybe you should-" Hermione started, but suddenly Ginny's voice cut into their argument. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, will you two just snog already and have done with it? The rest of us would like a little peace."

"Seconded," chimed in George.

"Hear hear!" cried Fred.

Hermione felt her face go hot and the tips of Ron's ears turned a bright red.

"Wha…that's…you…" Ron spluttered incoherently for a minute before finally managing to get out, "Mind your own business, Ginny!"

Ginny just smirked and went back to lazing, throwing her arm back across her face.

Hermione jumped up and ran back into the house. After a moment Ron, glaring at his siblings, stormed back into the house as well.

Ron found Hermione in the kitchen, sitting at the table with her face in her hands. Feeling a bit awkward, he sat down next to her. "Don't mind them. They're just a bunch of gits," he said.

She looked up at him, cheeks still tinged with pink, and mumbled, "It's okay." After a pause, she lifted her shoulders and added with a deprecating smile, "I'm sorry I've been so short with you today. I suppose it's just the heat."

Ron was looking down at Hermione, taking in her wild hair and pink cheeks, and the small smile turning up at the corner of her mouth. _You're staring,_ he told himself. "Yeah…the heat…" he mumbled, realizing he should say something. "I mean, it's not as if we would…" he trailed off.

Their eyes locked, and Hermione saw his blue eyes grow a shade darker. She felt all the irritation of the day building up pressure inside her. Sometimes he annoyed her so much she just wanted to strangle him. _Is that really what you want to do?_ A traitorous thought whispered to her. She licked her lips unconsciously, and suddenly his eyes were drawn to her mouth. Without thinking, he reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand and slowly rubbing his thumb against her skin. She drew in a sharp breath and his eyes met hers again. She tilted her chin slightly up as he dipped his head towards her.

There was a sudden noise as the door banged open. Ron jumped back from Hermione as if he'd been burned. Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen humming a tune.

"Oh, hello dears," Mrs. Weasley said as she noticed them sitting at the table. "Are you hungry? I was thinking we could have something cold for dinner. I just can't see cooking in all this heat."

"I'm not really hungry," muttered Ron.

Mrs. Weasley turned to look at him. She put a hand to his forehead and asked, "Are you feeling well, dear? You look flushed. I hope you're not coming down with something."

"I'm fine," Ron said as he pushed her hand away, "Stop fussing."

"Alright, alright," said Mrs. Weasley, turning to rummage in the pantry. "I suppose we're all a little out of sorts with this heat wave."

"Yeah," mumbled Ron, glancing sidelong at Hermione, who was looking a little flushed herself. "It's the heat."


End file.
